Filling the Blanks
by Ginver
Summary: The Jurist System Simulation was conducted in full view of the public, and many secrets were brought to light. What's not as known, though, is that the case chosen for the trial simulation was switched just before the proceedings took place; nor the circumstances that surrounded the simulation's preparations. Set during AJ:AA (extending through PW:DD).
1. Chapter 1

▲▲▲**Author's Note▲▲▲**

Welcome to the start of something new. This story is the first I've written in quite some time, and is set during the events of Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney. It also presumes familiarity with the original Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney (the classic), in particular with the bonus "Rise from the Ashes" case (PW:AA 1-5). Although it's not necessary to have played the game before reading this, if you haven't, I strongly recommend to go pick up a copy right now and play it. Still brings a smile to my face years later.

Stay away from the iPad version though. It's a terrible port that lacks the fine degree of polish that characterizes much of the Ace Attorney series. I feel vaguely bad about purchasing it myself, although the nostalgia value is just enough to outweigh my irritation with the port.

This story will be updated as often as I can, but with no promises of regularity. We may see a ship or two later on, but by and large I'm interested in probing some of the questions raised during Apollo Justice's title game—as well as following one of my favorite characters, Ema Skye. But that's enough of that. I'm a bit rusty, so any feedback is welcome—but for now, onto the story.

**Update (5/30/14):** Fixed some embarrassing typos and stylistic errors.

* * *

▲▲▲ **Filling the Blanks ▲▲**

**Chapter 1**

_November 1, 2026, 7:34 PM_

_Somewhere in Los Angeles_

"Couldn't you have at least taken a taxi?" The man's voice was distorted by static, barely audible over the sound of passing cars. There was a short pause. "I'm being serious. You know how dangerous things are, and there are people you're responsible for now."

For several seconds, the only response was the sound of labored breathing, hardly distinguishable from background noise. Then, after several muffled thumps: "Sorry. Bumps in the road. Say that again?"

"You heard perfectly well the first time," snapped the voice. "What do you think you're doing, cycling at a time like this? By all rights you should be in a police cruiser right now, not out in the open. And on a ridiculous contraption, no less."

Another pause, punctured by the blare of a horn. "I know what I'm doing. I'll be there soon. Besides, I'm sure you can hear for yourself—it's gridlock out here." Leaving no time for reply or argument, there was a soft _beep_ as the line went dead.

Standing before a twelfth-story office window, a frustrated Miles Edgeworth glared at his cell phone before slipping it into his pocket. As he looked out over the city skyline, he heard the unmistakable, soft pattering of rain. The darkening sky had finally begun to open up, and a glance at the monitor behind him showed that the storm would only worsen.

Edgeworth turned back to his desk, reaching for the office phone and dialing a number. He tapped his finger against the receiver once, twice, waiting for the call to go through. His eyes were drawn towards the pile of manila folders neatly stacked in front of him, and he groaned inwardly at the thought of the hours to come.

_...to think this is just the beginning…!_

* * *

_November 1, 2026, 7:37PM_

_Prosecutors' Building_

"Listen, _fop_, I've had it up to here with you!" A small plastic bag flew through the air and landed with a dull thud atop the enormous speakers that lined one wall of the office. "It took me an _hour_ to drive here, so this had better be important!" A damp and frustrated Ema Skye crossed her arms in front of her, staring down the man lazily sprawled in his chair. "If all you wanted was to have this delivered, surely there were at least a hundred officers or patrolmen who could have run your errands! I'm _busy_!"

"But none of them could have done the job as well as you, _ja_?" Brushing a lock of hair to one side, Klavier Gavin rose from his seat and leaned against his desk, appraising the fuming detective that stood before him. Her hair glistened with collected raindrops, and her trademark lab coat hung wetly around her, adding to her bedraggled appearance. The green of her vest was clearly visible even through the thin fabric, which even now was dripping onto the hardwood floor. "You know I appreciate it, Fräulein Skye."

"I don't," Ema shot back, irritation radiating off of her body. "You're not even prosecuting this case for a week! Why the rush today, of all days?" She was keenly aware of how she looked, having been confronted with one too many glass doors on her way up, which only contributed to her vexation. Worse, she could already feel a chill setting in, bringing with it the faint promise of a cold. "You had to pick the one day it rained—"

"It was not my intention to inconvenience you," Gavin cut in, sensing the oncoming tirade. "Someone else asked me to procure this evidence for them. I suggest you take it up with them, _ja_?"

"Who—" Ema began, before the sharp ringing of a phone interrupted her. Klavier allowed the sound to continue for several seconds, grinning cheekily at her. "Just answer it already, _fop_!" Her mood only continued to blacken as the prosecutor picked up his desk phone, still smiling at her misfortune. Grumbling to herself, she leaned against a nearby table to wait out the call, glancing only briefly at the charred guitar that still occupied much of its surface.

"…what about, then…?"

_The less said about it, the better_. The Gavinners' last concert had just been one bad turn after another, and she was more than eager to leave it behind her. _Even if I got to see the fop lose again._ That thought was immediately followed by a pang of guilt when she remembered how the trial had ended. She glanced at the Klavier's back, remembering the slump in his shoulders as he'd left the courtroom.

"…Herr Wright?" The words snapped Ema out of her reminiscing, and she stood unconsciously, watching as a slight frown flitted across Klavier's face. "_Nein_. I have not seen him…what? Herr Edgeworth, I am not the chief of police." His voice had gone flat and serious, and she could see his eyes narrow as he consulted a monitor on the wall. "Herr Edgeworth, there is only one detective unassigned at the moment…ja. I will call you back in a minute."

The phone made a soft click as it was set down. With a sigh of annoyance, Klavier turned back towards his desk, brushing the plastic bag from earlier aside. "Fräulein, I thank you for your help," he said distractedly. "I need one moment, and then—"

"What was that about Mr. Wright?" Startled by the edge in her voice, as well as its proximity, Klavier looked up to see the detective standing beside him. Her eyes were boring into his own with an unusual intensity. Slowly, he straightened himself, meeting her gaze.

"Apparently, he is late for a meeting," he said evenly, spreading his arms. Even still, Ema caught the momentary flash of distaste that had accompanied his answer. "Herr Edgeworth seems to believe that a police escort is in order."

"I'm going." Ema's response was instantaneous, her arms folded in front of her. "Where is he?"

"Fräulein Skye, I need you focused on the CR-5 case. I am sending Herr Scruffy. He's already in the building anyway, _ja?_" Klavier turned towards the door, only to find Ema in his way again. He sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "Herr Edgeworth has requested I meet with him—"

"_I'm going._" Ema's eyes were blazing now, and it became immediately apparent that she was not interested in debating the point. "Whatever you want done, it'll have to wait. Now, _where is he?_" The prosecutor stared at her, a trace of surprise kindled in his eyes.

_I have never seen her this…intense before_. As if reading her mind, Ema snapped her fingers in his face, reminding him of the unanswered question. _Obviously, there is something at play here…but what?_ With a shrug of defeat, Klavier glanced back at his phone before answering.

"Herr Edgeworth believes that he is waiting out the rain at a French restaurant. I believe the name was Trés Bien." Before he had the chance to continue, Ema had already spun on her heel and marched out the door. Klavier shook his head in curiosity, watching her retreating back until she rounded a corner and vanished. A few seconds passed before he reached for his desk phone once more, dialing in a number off the monitor to his left.

"Herr Scruffy? …_nein_, I need you to wait a few minutes." Once he hung up, Klavier swept up the bag of evidence from his desk and tucked it under his arm. With one last glance at the monitor on the wall, he strode out of his office, heading for the elevator, taking care not to slip on the trail of water on the floor.

* * *

_November 1, 2026, 7:40PM_

_Prosecutors' Building - Lobby_

Several heads turned at the sound of a door being thrown open, admitting a panting Ema Skye into the building lobby. At such a late hour, the chamber was sparsely filled, with several police officers talking amongst themselves by the walls and a security guard mindfully watching from behind a desk. Upon seeing her, the guard hurriedly flagged her down.

"Detective Skye! Mr. Edgeworth just called—he said you're to meet Detective Gumshoe in the security office." So saying, the man pulled open the little half-door by his side, opening the way to a door set against the back wall. Without a word of thanks, Ema dashed through the small space behind the desk in an instant.

Two faces looked up at her when she barged into the tucked-away space. One face was familiar, and Ema stopped dead in her tracks as the pieces fell into place. _Scruffy? Gumshoe? …of course. Well, that was stupid of me._ Almost hidden behind the man's tattered green coat was a bespectacled woman, her arms still moving even as she glanced at Ema.

"About time, pal!" Despite the situation, Ema couldn't help but smile. Although it had been years since she'd last met the other detective, everything about him seemed instantly familiar. Even his trenchcoat was largely the same, although looking somewhat the worse for wear. A small bandage still hung tenaciously to his face, which had lit up at the sight of Ema. "Mr. Gavin told me to wait for you."

"And Mr. Edgeworth told me to meet you here," Ema replied, letting her brief smile serve as her greeting. "Do you know why?" As Gumshoe was opening his mouth to answer, Ema froze at the sound of rasping metal. There was a flash of reflected light off the barrel of a gun in the woman's hands. She blinked.

"Make sure he gets here safely, okay?" The woman gingerly handed the weapon to Gumshoe, who looked unnerved by the exchange. The small shotgun looked awkward in the detective's large hands, and indeed Gumshoe scratched the back of his head with one hand as he stared down at it. "I owe him."

"Sure thing, Maggey." So saying, he turned back to Ema, still standing in the doorway in askance. "C'mon, pal. I'll explain to you on the way!"

* * *

_November 1, 2026, 7:37PM_

_Prosecutors' Building – Underground Parking Lot_

Before she knew it, Ema was sitting in the passenger's side seat of Gumshoe's car, a battered model that seemed to have more than a decade's worth of wear and tear on it. She'd seen a heavy dent on the front bumper as they were walking, setting off warning bells in her head.

"Are you sure this thing is safe to drive?" From the damage to the front and the instant-noodle wrappings that littered the floor and seats, the vehicle looked anything but well-cared for. Gumshoe patted the wheel affectionately as he dropped the long gun in the back seat.

"This baby's been going since you were in high school! Never failed me before!" So saying, he gave wrenched his key to the right. The engine spluttered fitfully to life, and the two were soon pulling out of the dim garage, out onto the night streets. "See? Works like a champ!"

Ema buried her face into her hands. _Different year, same Gumshoe._ She could already feel a slight headache coming on. "What's the deal with the long gun?" She looked to her left, seeing the man's face drop for a moment.

"Mr. Edgeworth seems to think that there might be some kind of trouble," he answered. Ema was startled; for once, there wasn't a trace of joviality in his voice. "He told me to get this from the building guards…just in case."

"Did he tell you anything else?" Ema pressed. The detective shook his head, and Ema paused, somewhat startled. "All I know is that it has something to do with Mr. Wright."

"Yup, same here, pal." Gumshoe's answer seemed distant, his eyes focused on the road ahead. The rain beat against the windshield for several long seconds before he continued. "Mr. Edgeworth mentioned something about a case he's working on right now. And you know Wright; trouble follows him around like glue!"

Ema frowned, leaning back in her chair. Now that her initial rush of adrenaline was wearing off, the seriousness of what Gumshoe had said was beginning to sink in. _He still gets his phrases mixed up, though._ The offhand thought was blasted away by the shrill ringing of her cell phone. Fishing the handset from her pocket, Ema took only long enough to confirm the number before answering.

"Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Ema. Are you with Detective Gumshoe?" The prosecutor's tone was calm, but Ema thought she could detect a slight strain to it. She could almost see him in his office, probably looking back out over the skyline.

"Yeah. He's here."

"Can you put me on speakerphone? This is important."

"I'll try. Hang on a second." The phone beeped once, before the car was filled with a faint rush of crackling static. "Can you hear me, Mr. Edgeworth?"

"…yes. Can you? Ema frowned, barely able to hear the response over the sounds of driving. It was Gumshoe who answered, a few seconds later.

"Yessir, loud and clear." There was a short pause, and then: "…well, maybe not loud and clear, sir, but well enough!" There was another burst of white noise, and Ema could have sworn she could make out a weary sigh.

"Listen, both of you. You might be wondering why I didn't dispatch a police car to pick up Wright." The detectives both nodded, although Ema caught herself a second later. _He can't see you, you idiot—_

"I'll take that as a yes. Wright is working on something for us that is of extreme importance. A special case, if you will. There are some dangerous people involved…and we cannot rule out the possibility that they have someone on the inside."

"But sir," Gumshoe began, clearly confused. "Mr. Wright's not…you know, doing that stuff anymore. Right?" He glanced over at Ema for confirmation. She winced, giving an almost imperceptible nod. A moment later, there was the sound of screeching rubber as they narrowly avoided another car. This time, Edgeworth's sigh was clearly audible.

"I'll explain it later, detective. I need both of you to stay alert. I have no doubts that I can trust you to keep this matter quiet for now. Do you understand?"

"Of course, Mr. Edgeworth." Ema heard only a terse acknowledgement before the call went dead. Before she had the chance to put her phone away, Gumshoe had already burst into questions.

"Whoa! Can you believe Mr. Edgeworth?" A honk, and another turn of the wheel. "Who would've thought something like this would happen again?"

_Again?_ Ema filed the question away for later, her mind flicking back to something she'd heard earlier that day. "Actually, the fop mentioned—"

"Who?"

"The _fop_," she repeated, exasperated. "You know, Mr. Gavin? Klavier? Mr. Rock Star? Mr. Edgeworth called him earlier, and he said something about not being the chief of police. Maybe that has something to do with it."

"The chief of police? No-o-o…" Gumshoe drew out the last word, clearly unconvinced. With his focus squarely on the road ahead, he missed the dark shadow that flickered through Ema's eyes. "I'm sure it's not him. I mean, I know him! The chief's great! I'm sure Mr. Edgeworth just wants to keep things close, you know?" Ema turned to look out her window.

_Did you forget already, detective? …it wasn't that long ago…_

"You know where we're going, right?" Fortunately for her, the oblivious Gumshoe missed both the obvious change in subject, and the undertone of bitterness that laced her voice. Instead, he launched into a story of a case several years ago, and Ema's attention drifted back towards what she'd heard today, turning over the scraps of information in her head.

_Mr. Wright…it's been so long._ She'd learned of his disbarment on the flight home, and a familiar feeling of disbelief washed over her as she remembered how bluntly the passenger next to her had delivered the news. _Why wouldn't you answer my calls? Or the door?_ She flinched inwardly, remembering the forlorn look that had settled over what was once the Wright & Co. Law Offices. She'd initially thought she'd come to the wrong address, that her memory had been off, but the faded paint that still read "Wright" had laid that doubt to rest.

_I heard he only painted over the last bit of that sign to save money. The Wright Talent Agency…._ She knew that he was still involved with the law in his own way. Unconsciously, she reached into the pocket of her lab coat, rolling a small bottle of powder between her fingers. _He's got someone working for him now…Ares? Julian? Something like that, anyway._ The questions remained, as persistent as the drumming of raindrops overhead.

_Mr. Wright…what have you gotten yourself into?_ Moments later, followed by: _…Ema Skye, what have _you_ gotten yourself into?_ By then, Gumshoe's story had wound to a close, and the minutes slipped by in relative silence. Despite her initial doubts, the car was acquitting itself well in the rain, although she wished Gumshoe didn't have such a penchant for careening around corners. Still, the cold rain kept the sidewalks and streets relatively clear of pedestrians, leaving the road fairly clear.

Ema almost wished that something would happen, anything to distract her. By now, worry had settled deep into her chest, and faces and words flashed through her memory as she thought back to the events of that night. _What could be going on here? How is the prosecutors' office involved in this? Why the secrecy?_ She racked her head for answers, but nothing jumped out at her. Instead, the doubts swirled around and around, dredging up several memories she did not care to relive.

"How much further?" The question seemed to catch Gumshoe by surprise, and he shot her a sideways glance. Several large and hazy shapes began coming into view on the block ahead. Ema barely made out the outline of a giant strawberry before Gumshoe answered, apparently heartened by the strange display.

"We're almost there, pal! It's not far past this little park." Although seriousness had crept back into his voice, the detective seemed in good spirits. "See, what did I tell you?" The detective took one hand off the wheel to point at a garish, pink establishment, standing out like a sore thumb against the far more subdued shops around it. "Piece of cake, pal!"

Ema gave a thin smile, but her eyes flicked over to the long gun resting in the back of the car. _Then why all the extra trouble? We're both armed already…._ Her gaze tracked back to Gumshoe's hip, but she could see nothing beneath the formless mass of his trenchcoat.

…_assuming he didn't forget it somewhere._

* * *

_November 1, 2026, 8:00PM_

_Trés_ _Bien_

Rain continued to fall, illuminated by the car's headlights as the vehicle rolled to a stop just in front of the restaurant's glass windows. A vibrant sign blared out "Trés Bien" to the world, seemingly undaunted by the rain. Ema glanced out her window, seeing faint signs of movement inside the building. Her hand went to the holster at her side, and her blood briefly turned to ice.

…_it's just in case, Ema. Everything is going to be fine._ Still, it was only with great caution that she opened the passenger door and stepped out onto the curb, her eyes darting this way and that as she surveyed the nearby street. As she closed the door behind her, she could hear the sound of Gumshoe doing the same, followed by an exclamation of dismay.

"Go ahead, pal! My coat's just a little bit caught up here." Shaking her head, Ema walked across the sidewalk and made her way into the restaurant, hearing a little bell tinkle above her head to announce her presence.

A large, pink figure emerged from behind a partition, accompanied by an almost witheringly strong scent of flowers. Ema unconsciously took a step back as the person bore down on her, seemingly enveloped in a cloud of scent.

"Mademoiselle, I must ask you to leave. You see the sign outside, _oui_? We are closed for the night!" Ema's eyes narrowed, and she flashed her identification card in front of the man's startled eyes, stepping further into the restaurant and glancing at the nearest two tables, which were bare.

"Police," she snapped at him, walking towards the back of the restaurant to see past a number of small partitions that divided the restaurant. The back of the room seemed just as empty as the front, and she spun back to face the pink host again.

"I'm looking for someone. He's supposed to be here."

"I am not seeing anyone here!" the man insisted, twisting back and forth anxiously. "Mademoiselle, we are closed—" he stopped, seeing Ema moving towards the kitchen doors.

The detective blinked when the host intercepted her, blocking her passage. Only then did she notice the man's unusually muscled arms, and the suddenly nervous look in his eyes. She tensed up, ready for anything, when she heard the sound of the front door opening behind her, hearing someone stumbling in.

"Alright, pal! Have you found him?" At the sound of Gumshoe's voice, Ema could see the man in front of her take a step back in surprise, a look of recognition dawning over his face.

"It's you!" Two voices rang out at the same time; one, the restaurant owner's, startled at the reappearance of a detective from many years ago. The other, Ema Skye's, strained by relief at the sight of a man slipping quietly through the kitchen doors. A familiar button flashed with reflected light from atop his head, and a familiar, yet strangely changed face offered her a crooked smile.

"Yes, me," said Phoenix Wright, still grinning. "It'd good to see you again, Ema."


	2. Chapter 2

▲▲▲ **Author's Note ▲▲▲**

Made two silly mistakes in the last chapter; thanks to everyone who pointed them out! This is what I get for writing extremely early in the morning instead of going to sleep. That, and for replaying Rise from the Ashes (I'm trying to marathon the games, but for the purposes of this story I'm also hitting a few relevant cases to try and refresh my memory on characterization). I'm not at all certain when this will wind up being published, but hopefully it wasn't too long a wait.

I'm very happy with the first chunk of this chapter (which only starts to probe at something I think the games dropped the ball on); much less so with the last bit. There are some things that just don't get better with age, and hopefully I'll be better prepared the next time around. Please whale away, because I think it's clear that it'll take a bit of figurative stretching to get back into the swing of things.

**Update (6/5/14):** It's been almost four years or so since I've last been on this site (excepting this current story), and it's somehow makes me smile a little to see that it is _still_ absolutely terrible about formatting. Fixed several uploading-introduced failures.

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▲▲▲ **Filling the Blanks ▲▲▲**

**Chapter 2**

_May 30, 2017, 10:27 PM_

_Los Angeles International Airport_

_International Terminal_

"Passengers for iFly Flight I-290, thank you all for your patience this evening. Unfortunately, we are still trying to locate a suitable replacement aircraft, and we will notify you as soon as we know more. Thank you again, and—" The remainder of the attendant's announcement was drowned out by loud groans of dismay and exasperation. The gate was filled with would-be travelers, many of whom were glancing at luxury timepieces or pulling out the latest smartphones to complain about this latest injustice. One group of businessmen rose as a group, still bickering amongst themselves, and made their way for the attendants' desk, only to find it was already under siege.

Despite the commotion, the waiting area just two gates down was largely quiet. Several older citizens peered disapprovingly over the tops of their newspapers at the ruckus, while others chatted quietly amongst themselves. Not one paid much mind to a lab-coated high school student, hunched over a ponderous book filled with equations and diagrams. Nor did they examine the blue-suited man collapsed in a chair beside her, his eyes closed and a pink cap pulled over his eyes. In the dimmed lights of largely empty gate, very few people would recognize the pair as Ema Skye and Phoenix Wright, despite the latest rush of media coverage just the week before.

If she looked around, Ema could still see both of their likenesses scattered around the terminal. Some were on the inner pages of discarded newspapers, others adorning magazine folds in full, vibrant color. In both cases, someone had clearly taken the time to touch up what must have been a candid photo into something altogether more dramatic. She smiled faintly, remembering her friend's overly exasperated reaction upon first hearing the news— from Detective Gumshoe, no less.

* * *

"Hold it! It was overcast and about to rain when we finished that trial! Where'd all this sun come from?" He'd been smiling, though, his eyes betraying the resigned amusement that had characterized his response to the media circus. At the time, it had been a nuisance, but a relatively benign one. Many reporters were still tearing into the police department about Damon Gant's criminal activities, while others tried unsuccessfully to obtain an interview with Lana Skye. The Wright & Co. Law Offices were inundated with correspondence, ranging from congratulations to requests for help. Every day, Ema went to the office, helping Phoenix pack the letters away into countless bags and boxes.

"How about this one?" she'd asked countless times, holding up what looked to be a promising letter. "It looks interesting— scientifically, of course!" Each time, Phoenix would look at her and smile, before gently shaking his head and returning to filing. At first, she'd just chalked it up to a desire for rest. More than anyone else, Ema was aware of the Herculean effort that Phoenix had gone through to defend her sister, and discover the truth behind SL-9. But then she'd seen the distant sadness that shadowed his eyes when he smiled at her, or the melancholy that seemed set in, just for a moment when he heard her say something silly.

Not too long after, she didn't have to look closely to see the misery and confusion that plagued her friend. It was plain in his voice after he'd picked up the phone that morning, and in the shock that had frozen him through the rest of the day. She could see it in his sudden indifference at the sound of knocking, and in the dull glance he'd regarded a panting Detective Gumshoe with as he stepped in through the door with a photograph in his hand. She'd seen it in the deliberateness with which Phoenix had torn up that photo later that night, dropping shreds onto his desk unconsciously as he stared out at the ceiling.

And Ema had felt it in his body, the night she sat next to him on the office couch and hugged him tightly. That was the only time she'd seen him cry. The next morning, he had come into the office again, punctual as ever, dry-eyed and fairly composed. During those days, she left the office only to see Lana. The rest of the time, she spent tidying up the office, doing make-up homework, and sitting next to Phoenix when he was at his worst.

_Just to be there. For him…_

* * *

Ema looked at the dozing attorney next to him, her newest hat snugly pulled over his eyes. A faint grin ghosted her face as she reached up, gently poking at the spikes of black hair that poked out from underneath the pink cloth. At the slight contact, the man stirred, then came awake in a sudden flurry of movement. One hand fumbled at the brim of the cap, while the other swung about, coming to rest with one finger pointed accusingly right in front of Ema's nose.

"O-objection!" Phoenix spluttered, finally managing to free himself from the garment. His gaze was met by two blue-green eyes, twinkling with mischief. Oblivious to the glances that several others had thrown their way, Phoenix stabbed at Ema again with his finger, this time poking her squarely in the forehead. "Not the hair! How would you like it if you'd been woken up by someone poking at your hair?" Despite herself, Ema could not help but giggle as Phoenix combed his fingers back through his hair, trying to restore its previous arrangement. After several seconds, Phoenix gave up with a sigh, slouching back further into his chair. "What time is it, Ema?"

She glanced at her phone. "It's pre-cise-ly 10:40!" Phoenix groaned, pulling Ema's hat back over his eyes. In spite of the motion, Ema could see he had no intention of going back to sleep. Indeed, the lawyer soon extended his legs and arms, stretching himself to relieve some of the aches that had set in during their wait at the airport.

"You're sure your clock isn't slow, right? It feels like we've been here a lot longer than that." So saying, he propped the hat up again, just in time to see Ema flash him a look of disapproval.

"Mr. Wright! Don't you know that cell phone clocks are always correct? They get their time from the radio!"

"Even if that's the case, I'm don't think that means they're always right." So saying, Phoenix lazily pulled his own phone out of his pocket and checked the time. "You see? Mine says it's 10:43— two minutes ahead of yours now, it looks like. At least one of us has to be wrong here."

"…!" Phoenix chuckled at Ema's surprise and indignation. "…M-Mr. Wright! Your phone must be broken! That's the only scientific conclusion here." She scowled, one hand moving from her book to her hip. This time, Phoenix actually laughed out loud, drawing baleful stares from some of the other passengers. He looked back at her, smiling openly.

"What makes you think it's _my_ phone that's broken?!" Although his tone was filled with reproach, Ema knew better than to take it at face value. Underneath it all, the attorney must still be laughing to himself at Ema's plight. In spite of herself, her frown was soon replaced with a bright smile.

_I'm glad he's smiling again…even if it's only a little bit._ A image of her sister, cold and severe flashed through her mind for a split second before she pushed it away. _It's thanks to Mr. Wright that Lana's not like that anymore. I owe him at least a few smiles in return._

Before she could answer, speakers crackled to life down the terminal. "Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the delay tonight, and thank you again for your patience. We're pleased to announce that a replacement aircraft has been found, and we will begin boarding for iFly Flight I-290, with service to London in just a few minutes." The announcement was quickly followed by the sound of chatter, and Phoenix glanced over at the monitors that hung overhead.

"Looks like that's you," he remarked, standing up and yawning. "It's about time, too." Ema nodded, closing her book with a thump and cramming it into her shoulder bag. Phoenix could see her slight frown at the lack of resistance, and chuckled again. "Don't worry, Ema. I'm sure your forensics stuff will be waiting for you when you land."

"…it's just luminol and aluminum powder…" she groused to herself, twisting the strap for her bag. "I don't see what the big deal is!" Phoenix only rolled his eyes, bending down to grab the handle of Ema's suitcase.

"It's a security precaution, apparently." Already, he could hear Ema begin to spout off the non-dangerous uses for her equipment, but he wasn't listening. With a quick jerk, he tipped the unwieldy roller into motion, pulling it behind him and walking back to Ema's gate. The would-be scientific investigator followed, still complaining loudly at the injustice of it all.

This time, it was Phoenix's exasperated response that was cut off by the speakers. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! At this time, on the behalf of iFly Airlines, I'd like to invite our first class passengers to start lining up for boarding." Concurrent with the announcement, a uniformed man was unclipping one of the belt barriers, opening one of the passages towards the now-open gate. A number of passengers were getting up as well, shuffling about as they collected odds and ends.

It was with a somewhat sad smile that Phoenix turned back to Ema, nodding his head at the forming line. "Looks like you're up, Ema." The girl glanced at it for a moment, before turning back to Phoenix.

"M-Mr. Wright…are you sure you don't want come with me? You could use a vacation!" Phoenix chuckled, handing the suitcase handle over to a suddenly-forlorn Ema.

"Ema, I'm already breaking the rules being here," he said. "It's only because your sister pulled a few strings that I got past security. Besides, the ticket alone is more than I can afford right now." Ema looked down at the floor, feeling somewhat guilty.

"I-I'm sorry…after all you've done, I haven't even paid you…" She looked up, her free hand suddenly balled into a fist. "Mr. Wright! I'm going to figure something with Lana as soon as I land! And then you can come and visit me, once I've gotten settled down!" Phoenix seemed briefly taken aback at the outburst, but quickly regained his composure.

"Don't worry about it, Ema. I'll be fine." He smiled again, although more thinly this time. "Besides, you should focus on your studies! I'm sure we'll see each other again." He glanced back at the line, which had now started to slowly inch its way forward. "Come on, Ema— they're starting to board now."

Ema twisted on the spot again, looking as the line began to grow uncomfortably short. In a moment of inspiration, she let go of her suitcase and began to fiddle with her lab coat, unpinning two small buttons that adorned her coat and thrusting them at Phoenix. He took them with a raised eyebrow, turning the small trinkets over in his hands.

"I hope this doesn't mean you're angry with me," he remarked, seeing the little faces inscribed on the buttons. He looked back up. "What's this for, Ema?"

"…consider it a thank you. One for saving Lana…and one for saving me." It was starting to get hard to meet his gaze through her eyes, which had started to water slightly. For the second time, Phoenix looked slightly shocked, before slowly extending his right hand to her.

"…of course, _Investigator_ Skye." Ema looked at the outstretched hand again for a few seconds, before charging past and giving the man a hug.

"I'm going to miss you, Mr. Wright." She stepped back, retrieving her suitcase and tipping it back onto its wheels. "Promise to keep in touch, okay?"

"Of course." With one last look, Ema finally made her way to the line, by now just a few people long. Phoenix watched as she produced a slip of paper from one of her coat pockets, and heard a faint confirmation beep from the ticket machine. And just like that, she was gone, vanishing down the gateway.

"…at this time, if your ticket says Zone 1, or if you are an iFly Premium member, please come to the gate at this time for boarding." Before the next rush of people had a chance to descend on him, Phoenix slipped back into the terminal's main hallway, making his way towards a waiting security guard. As he was led back towards the airport's main terminal, Phoenix glanced one more time at the emptying gate behind him.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Phoenix fished it out, scrolling his way through the short message.

_You promised, okay? P.S.: Lana says she called a cab for you already. Talk to you soon! :)_

It took longer than Phoenix would have liked to thumb out his reply, but as he slipped his phone back into his pocket, he was smiling. Despite the pain of another goodbye, the experience had left him feeling a little more lighthearted than he had been since he'd picked up that phone so long ago.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, at this time, please put any cell phones or other electronic devices into airplane mode. We will be taking off in just a few minutes." Ema hurriedly tucked her phone under a fold of her lab coat, waiting for one of the flight attendants to pass her seat before she checked the screen again. A few seconds later, she was rewarded with a short tone that indicated a new message. She read it over once, then switched her phone off and returned to her book with a smile. Behind her, she could hear the plane's engines coming to life. As promised, a few minutes later she felt the greasy, unsteady slide that marked takeoff, and the airport was soon lost to sight.

* * *

_November 1, 2026, 8:03PM_

_Trés Bien_

"…M-Mr. Wright!" One hand flew her cheek, and her feet practically left the ground in surprise. _I knew he had changed, but…I wasn't expecting this._ Her eyes roved up and down Phoenix's figure, taking in an odd mix of the familiar and the strange. Phoenix's eyes seemed as sharp as ever, and his face remained instantly recognizable even after the years, despite the unkempt stubble that now lined his chin. However, she could barely make out any traces of his trademark hair beneath a worn aqua beanie he now wore.

Also gone was the trademark blue suit, and she could feel a familiar feeling of melancholy as her mind's eye recalled a small badge that had once adorned the man's color. _I suppose I never saw Mr. Wright wearing anything _but _a suit…but even still._ The casual hoodie and sweatpants seemed as if they belonged to a different person altogether— and from what she had heard, they may as well have. Phoenix approached her after another moment of silence, the movement also revealing a familiar button that adorned one side of his hat.

"Detective Skye now, is it?" he queried, slipping one hand out of his pockets and offering to her. Ema started, glancing first at his fingers, then back at the man's face.

…_they look the same. Almost as if he still were…_ The gesture was loaded with memories that echoed back just under a decade, and Ema found herself unexpectedly hesitating at what to do. Now, as then, all she wanted to do was give Phoenix a hug.

Instead, she returned the handshake, feeling an oddly callused hand enveloping her own. _Looks like Apollo was right. He really is a piano player now._ "Mr. Wright," she could hear herself saying. "It's good to see you again." Phoenix chuckled in response, but the laughter seemed oddly hollow. He must have felt her stiffen slightly, and abruptly withdrew his hand back into his pockets once more.

"And you as well." His gaze was downcast now, the brim of his hat casting a shadow over his eyes. "Detective Gumshoe." From somewhere behind her, Ema could hear the other detective jump.

"Y-yes sir?!" Then, after a moment— "Hold up, pal! What do you want?"

"Nothing. It's good to see you again as well." An awkward silence settled between the three of them, broken first by a small cough…

"Mr. Armstrong, thank you for your help. It looks like I'll be on my way in a few minutes." Ema could hear an undertone of gratitude in the acknowledgment, which was met by a flurry of almost babbled words from the restaurant's proprietor. As Mr. Armstrong hustled back into the kitchens, Phoenix looked back up at the two detectives. "Now, would you care to fill me in as to why you're both here?"

"You've got to be kidding, pal! We're supposed to make sure you get to Mr. Edgeworth safely!" It seemed that Phoenix's odd demeanor was also unsettling to Detective Gumshoe, who was now stamping nervously on the floor. "Don't tell us that this is news to you!"

"On the contrary." Now it was Ema's turn to fidget, playing uncertainly with a lock of hair by her ear. This brooding, withdrawn Phoenix Wright was a complete stranger to her. She felt a pit form in her stomach as he continued, his voice unexpectedly cold. "Funny, though. I told Edgeworth specifically _not_ to send anyone."

"Don't be ridiculous!" The tension that had been building inside of her burst out in those three words. "How do you expect to make it to your meeting, anyway? It's pouring outside and you're still miles away!"

"The same way I got here. On my bicycle." Phoenix shrugged, nodding his head towards one of the windows. Ema glanced over, seeing a rusty and dilapidated upright bike propped up against the glass. Its thin, worn frame was visibly shaking as the raindrops continued to fall. When Ema's reply came, Detective Gumshoe took several steps back in shock.

"Stop this!" Tension was turning to anger the longer she regarded the miserable sight. As if on cue, there was a sudden crash as the bicycle fell on its side and out of view. She turned back to Phoenix, her eyes hard. "I know you're up to something, Mr. Wright! And whatever it is, you'll be a lot safer if you let me do my job, and bring you in!"

"Ema, I promise you—"

"You broke your promise!" And suddenly, it wasn't Detective Skye who was shouting. It was "Investigator" Skye, trying to decide whether or not to wave one last time at the attorney who had saved her in more ways than one.

Whether or not a short text message would be enough.

Whether years of silence meant he'd forgotten.

* * *

…_I know you didn't do it…I know! So…So how can you say you did?_

…_changed a lot…_

…_used to be so gentle, always smiling…_

…_how could you be so cold?_

* * *

"…!" For the first time, Phoenix seemed genuinely startled. Ema's outburst had struck home in a way that he had not been expecting, and memories of a text message sent so many years ago came rushing back with painful clarity. For what seemed like the umpteenth time that evening, a pall fell over the trio. Gumshoe seemed to be trying his hardest to meld with the restaurant's wall, as far away from the strain that seemed to thicken the very air.

"…Ema…" Phoenix ventured, looking surprisingly contrite. He looked at Ema, who was now staring woodenly at the floor, refusing to meet his gaze. A harsh, metallic sound began to fill his ears, and his vision went black, save for the despondent detective standing in front of him. Familiar chains streaked this way and that, and three ornate locks imposed themselves in front of his friend.

_…Ema…I'm sorry._

"…time to go, Mr. Wright." Without another word, Ema walked to the door and pulled it open, motioning for Gumshoe to join her at the threshold. Without waiting for either of her companions to catch up, she stepped out the door and into the driving rain. Gumshoe stayed until Phoenix had drawn abreast, a lock of surprise still fixed on his face.

"I don't know what you've done, but you've sure done it now, pal." Phoenix only gave a small nod in response, before he too stepped out into the cold rain. The sound of the door closing was almost inaudible over the sounds of a rainy night. Indeed, for all that Phoenix could see or hear, the city may as well have been a circle of concrete not ten yards across. Gumshoe soon appeared by his side, rain sheeting down his coat.

The two found Ema standing next to Gumshoe's car, unable to open the door but clearly unwilling to talk much more at the moment. Her lab coat was by now absolutely plastered against her body, and her familiar rose-red glasses stood in real danger of being driven off her head altogether. Upon seeing her, Gumshoe sheepishly raised a small remote and pressed a button, unlocking the car doors.

"Mr. Wright." Her voice was stiff, as was her posture as she pulled open one of the back doors. Phoenix winced again, before ducking into the car's cluttered back seat. His feet upset a number of empty instant noodle packages, and his drenched clothing claimed several more that were strewn about the seats.

"Come on, pal! We're ready to go!" Ema could distantly hear the detective's call, but her attention was elsewhere. Her eyes were narrowed already against the rain, but she squinted intensely through the sheets of rain that fell around her, looking at two spots of light that had appeared out of nowhere in the distance. And then a click, faint compared to nature's drumbeat, but infinitely loud to her ears…

The car rocked when Ema dove into the back seat. "Gumshoe, drive! _Now!_" Out of surprise more than anything else, the detective floored the accelerator. There was a squeal of rubber, and the car started forward right as the crack of a gunshot pierced through the storm. Fragments of asphalt pelted against the car's rear bumper, some striking the inside of Ema's door in the instant before it swung closed with a heavy thud. The inside of the car was illuminated from behind, hazy beams of light wobbling about from some unseen vehicle. At the next intersection, Gumshoe threw the car in a sharp right turn, and the pursuing headlights vanished from sight.

* * *

_November 1, 2026, 8:20PM_

_Somewhere in Los Angeles_

"Whoa!" The car lurched heavily as it raced over a section of uneven pavement. If Ema had thought the engine had been loud before, that had been nothing compared to the unhealthy roar that was now erupting from beneath the hood. However, her focus was pinned to the view through the rear window, searching the murk for any signs of pursuit. Gumshoe continued talking, his words pouring out in a nervous rush. "What's going on back there, pal?" He threw a glance back over his shoulder. "C'mon, you've gotta tell me!"

"Detective! Pole!" Phoenix's snapped warning came just in time, and the car's tires screeched against the road as the vehicle careened past a street pole, missing it by what felt like inches. "We'll need your eyes on the road if you have any intention of arriving in one piece." So saying, Phoenix glanced over at Ema, who was now wrestling with something at her hip. A moment later, he saw a familiar outline revealed by her wet lab coat, followed by a soft, but unmistakable noise.

Moments later, the cabin filled with the sounds of the storm outside as Ema rolled down her window. The seconds seemed to drag into hours, punctuated only by Gumshoe's grunts of exertion as he navigated the car around one turn after another. All the while, two pairs of eyes stared into the void behind them.

"…the streets are too empty, even given the weather." Ema's words were terse, ground out from between clenched teeth. "Mr. Wright, keep your head down, and leave this to me." Phoenix wordlessly obliged, leaning forward a little to reduce his profile. Unfortunately, from his position, seeing out the rear window was now impossible. All he had now was an imperfect view through Gumshoe's mirrors, which showed nothing but the constant pounding of rain.

He was surprised by the sound of two more gunshots, both ear-splittingly nearby. The car swerved momentarily when a startled Gumshoe loosened his grip on the wheel, and Phoenix could hear Ema curse under her breath. She drew her head back into the car, rainwater trickling off of her wind-blown hair. One hand was grasping absently at her forehead, where a pair of glasses had been just a moment before.

"It's strange. They're not shooting very often." Phoenix could only nod in agreement before Ema looked back out the window once again. This time, Phoenix could see the beams of light shining through the car's rear window, silhouetting drops of water bizarrely against the seat backs ahead of him. Three more shots rang out, and Gumshoe's right mirror exploded into fragments of metal and glass. A spiderweb of cracks appeared in the adjacent window, and Ema ducked to avoid several bits of debris that were blown into the car.

The sound of another engine was now plainly audible, and the faint outline of the pursuing car grew visible through the storm. Gumshoe began to weave back and forth as bullets ricocheted off the car's sides, sparks flying from the near-misses.

"I can't go any faster than this, guys! I can barely see as is!"

"Detective, do you know where you're going?" Phoenix's voice sounded oddly muffled, but it remained barely audible over the chaos.

"Not anymore, pal! I mean, I did, but I got all turned around— whoa!" A flurry of gunfire drowned out anything else the detective might have had to say, the sounds painfully loud in the enclosed cabin. Flashes of light painted harsh shadows against the car's interior as Ema fired back.

_Three…two…one…out._ She ducked back into the car to reload, pulling a spare magazine from her belt and swapping it in. Her hands shook faintly as she readied herself for another attempt. The seat lurched beneath her, and Ema gripped the door frame tightly to steady herself during yet another turn. As expected, moments later the headlights were back behind them, staring out like malevolent eyes.

She took a breath, working her arms clear of the windowsill and leveling her pistol. _It's just science, really. Physics, all of it._ The absent thought was laughably inappropriate, and Ema pushed it out of her head as she adjusted her aim. Two bumps in the road jostled her sights, but a moment later the motion had settled, and she pulled the trigger twice. The recoil momentarily blocked her sight, but she could hear breaking glass. A split second later came the awful sound of squealing rubber, and the pursuing headlights abruptly veered to one side and fell away into the distance.

Ema continued to watch for several seconds, before pulling back into the cabin and slumping against her seat. Only now was she aware of the pounding in her chest, or of the ringing in her ears. She put a hand over her eyes, breathing in and out until her heart had settled slightly and her hearing had somewhat cleared.

"Ema…?" When she opened her eyes, she saw Phoenix looking at her from his seat, concern plain on his face. For several seconds, they looked at one another, before the former attorney gave her that same, crooked grin. "Nicely done." Although she had begun to shiver, Ema managed a faint smile in answer.

"Hey, what about me?!" Gumshoe's complaining jolted both of them to their senses, and Phoenix could not help but let out a bark of nervous laughter. "That was some impressive driving just now, if I do say so myself."

"It certainly was, detective." After that, they drove on in silence for several minutes, save for an occasional chortle from Gumshoe. From the way he was gripping the wheel, his large hands unnaturally pale with strain, Ema could see that the man was still plainly on edge.

_Can't exactly blame him._ Ema had only been in a live-fire situation once before, and the persistent tremble in her hands made it clear that the situation was alien to her. _All I want to do now is take a nap somewhere warm…preferably with a bag of Snackoos._ Instead, she gingerly swept the stray pieces of glass that had made it onto her seat to the floor, and retook her position by the window. After a moment's hesitation, she rolled it back up, cutting off the steady flow of wind and rainwater that had been their constant companion.

* * *

Somewhere, a cheerful jingle began to play, so remarkably, impossibly out of place that for a moment, no one recognized it for what it was. Moments later, the tune had swung into the unmistakable opening measures of a theme song from long ago, prompting both Phoenix and Ema to reach reflexively for their phones. But while Ema's phone was silent, Phoenix's continued to cheerily belt out the Steel Samurai theme until he answered the call.

"Edg—" he began, before pausing with a pained wince. Even without the aid of speakerphone, the other man's ire was clearly audible to everyone in the car.

"Wright, you _idiot!_ Please tell me that the reports I'm getting of gunfire have _nothing_ to do with you."

"…I never fired a gun, so—"

"This isn't some kind of joke, Wright! I knew something like this would happen, but you carried on on your harebrained joyride anyway! Do you have any idea what kind of a mess the police department has on its hands right now?"

"No…?" Phoenix tone was somewhere between sour and genuinely uncertain. "Do tell, though." He moved the phone away from his ear as a burst of static marked an exasperated sigh. In doing so, he caught sight of the pointed glare that Ema had fixed him with. "…if looks could kill, Ema, you would have just wasted an evening for nothing."

"I almost wish they could," Ema groused. There was a sound of agreement from the phone, and Phoenix resignedly put the call on speakerphone.

"Believe me, Detective, I sometimes share that feeling." Edgeworth sighed again, and they heard the sound of a computer beeping before he spoke again. "Wright, there was an…_unusually_ coincidental mix of broken traffic lights, road work signs, and accidents closing Vitamin Avenue for several miles from the city side. That's on top of a disturbance at one of the traffic control stations that seems to have directed everyone away from Trés Bien. …do you understand, Wright?"

"We're on that road right now, sir!" That was Detective Gumshoe, who only now seemed to be getting the car back onto some semblance of a course. "It's a lot calmer now, though."

"Detective, I hope you're keeping your eyes on the road." Edgeworth's admonishment stood for less than a second before it was followed with something altogether different. "…but you have my gratitude. It seems that you have managed to give your pursuers the slip."

"Thank you, sir! Hoh hoh hoh." Gumshoe's mirth soon subsided, replaced with a far more serious sense of curiosity. "Mr. Edgeworth, who were those guys?"

"…it might be best to talk about this more once we're back at the office, Detective." Phoenix's eyes were shadowed again, but there was something familiar in the man's posture that told Ema all she needed to know.

_He's onto something. I can practically hear the gears turning in his head._ "Mr. Edgeworth, do you have any information about what we should be expecting up ahead, or are we in the clear?"

"I'm afraid that I don't know much. Whatever cover Wright had has obviously been compromised already, so I've requested that the precinct send several patrol cars to try and secure the area." Again, they could hear the sounds of a computer in the background. "…they won't be arriving for another ten minutes or so, though, and even then there's no guarantee that they will be able to link up with you."

"Understood, sir. We'll be there soon." _I hope. _Ema was about to hang up when Gumshoe's voice caused her to hesitate.

"Say, Mr. Edgeworth, looks like they're here already! Hoh hoh." Indeed, Ema could see familiar red and blue strobing reflecting off the surviving mirrors, and it was not long before a police car began to draw abreast of them on the right. Instead of feeling reassured, though, Ema could feel a cold sweat start to form, mixing unpleasantly with the rain that already soaked her body. …_something is…_

"…whoa, take it easy, there, pal!" Gumshoe was looking out at the police car, which had drifted a little closer to the lane divider than was entirely comfortable. From the back seat, the cruiser's tinted windows hid the driver from view, only adding further to Ema's sense of unease. Phoenix too was staring at their escort, his eyes narrowed in concentration. A tiny strip of darkness appeared along the driver's side window, growing ever-so-slowly.

"…Det—"

"_Whoa!_ Hold on, guys!" Phoenix and Ema were both nearly thrown from their seats as Gumshoe slammed on the brakes, dropping them slightly behind their escort. A fraction of a second later, there was a flash of light, and the sound of another gunshot rang out right in front of them. Before there was time for a second shot, Gumshoe's car seemed to slide into the other vehicle. When it came, the impact was surprisingly mild; the effects were anything but. The police car lurched to the left, narrowly missing a second impact before spinning out of control.

It was only after the stalled cruiser had dropped out of sight that Gumshoe eased up on the accelerator, quieting the noise of the engine. Edgeworth's raised voice replaced it, crackling over the line as he argued with someone else.

"Get a team out there and _lock it down_. And for heaven's sake, keep me up to date as to where they are! I don't want another stolen vehicle showing up by surprise." A scraping sound briefly filled the call with static. "…Wright, I presume you've pieced together what happened."

"Something like that." While the strain that had crept into his voice was understandable, Ema was surprised to see the man fiddling with something around his neck. A polished gold chain stood out all the more for the contrast against Phoenix's drab sweater, and she could just make out what looked to be a locket dangling from it. "Listen, Edgeworth…you were right."

"Is that an apology, Wright?"

"You could say that." The call lapsed into silence for a time, punctuated by the welcome sounds of traffic around them. Again, it was Detective Gumshoe who spoke first.

"Sir, I can see the exit up ahead. We should be there in just a few minutes."

"Very well. Detective Gumshoe, Detective Skye— well done, both of you. I will see you all shortly." There was a short beep to announce the end of the call, and Phoenix slowly tucked the phone away again. Exhaustion was palpable in the tiny space, and both detectives were slumped in their seats. Phoenix himself stared out the window, a guilty look spreading across his face as he contemplated the events— and the damage— of the night.

"…I owe both of you an apology as well. And my gratitude."

"Don't mention it, pal." While still upbeat, Gumshoe's answer was uncharacteristically subdued. Ema did not reply at all, staring distantly out her own window. She sighed, trying to sort through an unpleasantly familiar mix of emotions that was welling up within her. A brilliant flash, followed by the loud, rolling rumble of thunder interrupted her thoughts, and she winced.

…_nothing good ever came out of a thunderstorm._


End file.
